Burning Up
by HonestDisagreement
Summary: Unfortunate events leaves Kurt Hummel jaded,hopeless about his future, he's pushed his family and friends away along with any hopes of an education/career. Enter in Blaine Anderson, the kind of man Kurt knows better than to get close to, but can't resist
1. Chapter 1

**Heyhihello, this is the _introduction_ to the first glee piece of fanfiction that I've written. The purpose of this chapter was to give a good foundation of the story to build off from, however it's not completely necessary to read the introduction, even though I highly recommend it because you might find yourself completely lost without it. I might not have the first official chapter up until Monday, if this even catches on, which I hope it does. *crosses fingers* **

**Warning: This chapter does contain Hevans/Kum/KurtxSam. This is a Klaine story, but in order to get there, this is necessary. Just bear with me please.**

**If any one is interested, I'm looking for a beta, and I apologize for any grammatical errors in this chapter.**

How the End Began.

Kurt Hummel wished nothing more than to live in a world of acceptance, learn in a world where he would be accepted, work in a world where he would be accepted, anything. But, who doesn't? Who doesn't wish for a world where they could walk down the streets in their pajamas, go to their work in their pajamas and have it be acceptable? Just because they liked wearing their pajamas?And who could blame Kurt Hummel for just wanting to live in a world as accepting as that. Except, rather than walking down the streets in pajamas because he _liked_ pajamas, he would have much rather walk down the streets hand in hand with a boy of his choosing because he _liked_ boys. And back when he was in high school, Kurt Hummel dreamed of New York City, NYADA, Broadway, Fashion, whatever he choose. And it was all in the palms of his hands. But more than that, he had the growing desire to hold hands with a boy until that day arrived and he'd rid himself of the despicable soon-to-be speck of dust in his world known as Lima, Ohio. Not just any boy, but he wanted to hold hands with Sam Evans, yes the bleached-blonde, Nashville descendant, quarterback, blue eyed beautiful Sam Evans. Ever since their duet of 'Sing it Out' they did exactly that.

It had started out as just hanging out after school, Kurt and Sam had somehow managed to bond over movies, Sam loved sci-fi and Kurt loved musicals, and they made an agreement to take turns watching their favorite movies. By doing this Sam discovered that musicals weren't _too_ bad, and as a matter of fact he _really_ enjoyed them, and Kurt realized that sci-fi movies were most definitely as horrid as he first imagined, but that he was willing to suffer through them for Sam. Then Sam had began defending him before the rest of the football team, and despite what Finn said, he didn't stay away from Kurt to protect his reputation. After Sam had stood up for Kurt, the rest of the foot ballers in glee club followed suit, and it wasn't long before even David Karofsky was wising up to stay away. Sam and Kurt walked together through the halls between almost every class, and no one had dared to mess with the quarter back, except for the occasional hockey player but that didn't phase them anymore. They were best friends, and when Burt encountered his first heart attack Sam was there. He didn't say much, he just hugged Kurt and told everyone to back off when Kurt voiced his opinions of God. At Carol and Burt's wedding, he sang the main verses of _Marry You_ with Kurt, and Sam and Finn had led the glee club in their dedication to Kurt in the song _Just The Way You Are_.

Sam was normally confident, adamant even, about hanging around Kurt in public. He didn't care who saw them, he didn't care about the remarks, the looks, the speculations about his own sexuality. When Jacob has first interviewed him, he laughed the thought of being gay off and started dating Quinn. Kurt didn't mind that Sam was dating Quinn, he considered himself lucky just to have Sam as his friend at that point. After the rest of the school found out that Quinn and Sam had broken up more rumors of Sam's sexuality popped up again, more intense and harmful then before. This time Sam made no moves to deny them, all he would do was laugh and shake his head if that. When Jacob interviewed him once again and asked why he wasn't denying the rumors full out, Sam responded "Why deny something thats not offensive?". Which also threw all of McKinley High through a whole 'nother loop. But despite how confident Sam was in public with Kurt in the privacy of their movie-nights and hangouts, he was becoming more and more quiet. This didn't go unnoticed by Kurt, and even though he found himself enjoying the soft silence that was engaged between them from time to time and especially the connection made between their eyes whenever they locked for the briefest second, but one day he couldn't control himself.

"Is there something wrong?" He asked softly in the middle of Avatar, which they were watching for the 18th time, "Did I, I don't know, you're quite a lot now recently and its not, not bad or anything," He added with a breath, "I just don't get why? Is it because of what Quinn did? Because Finn is my brother and I never talked to him about it-"

"Kurt," Sam laughed and looked over at him, "Calm down. Its fine, I just...I like the silence you know? Its kind of...nice." he added with a smile.

Kurt blushed and nodded from his side of the couch, "I do too," he mumbled.

Later that week, they were walking to Breadstix from school to the side of the sidewalk chatting idly while Sam bent down to tie his shoe. When he stood back up again, Sam looked Kurt directly into his eyes and Kurt could see his adam's apple bob silently and his eyebrows were furrowed, "Can I try something?" he asked, as he moved closer to Kurt, leaning in and not once breaking the eye contact.

He was curious, he was _so_ curious, of as to what in the seven hells Sam could have been referring to even though deep down he knew damn well, but he managed to squeak out a high pitched, high pitched even for him, "Yes."

In that moment, two things happened. One, Sam's lips met Kurt's and _god_ was it everything Kurt had ever hoped for in a first kiss. He knew it wasn't Sam's first kiss, but he didn't care, as he had a crush on Sam since the minute he met him but let his feelings hinder so he could develop an actual friendship with the boy so that things wouldn't end as badly as they had with Finn. But ever since their silent exchanges began, hell even before _that_, he felt his feelings for Sam resurface stronger than before. Now that his soft, not-too-large-in-actual-feel lips, were on his, his feelings were flaring like the flames of an inferno, stronger than before. He had been in shock at first, but the shock had subsided fairly quickly and was replaced with an utter happiness. It was magical, better than broad way, it was everything. Everything that Kurt Hummel considered good was out shined by this kiss. But nothing good ever lasted for Kurt Hummel, because as Sam pulled away, the tingling feeling on his lips was replaced by those of a strong fist, pushing his bottom teeth up to collide with his top ones forcefully.

"What're you fags doin'?" A deep voice, the man who owned the hand called out.

Because neither Sam nor Kurt noticed that while their lips were meeting for the first time, two men were walking down the same street. Two men with the greatest weapon, surprise. Kurt's head hit the brick wall directly behind him, just as the second man's foot connected with Sam's shin, causing him to fall over onto the black top. He recognized the hand that connected with his jaw, and he recognized the booths that slammed against Sam's knee. _Azimio and Dave._

"Sam!" Kurt screamed, and a minute later the black man turned back to him.

"We dun' give a _fuck_ watchu two do behind closed doors," A blow to his stomach. "But this our god damn street," A kick to Sam's shoulder. "And if you two fucking _faggot_ princesses can't respect that," Another hit to his rib cage, "we're gun' a have an issue."

"Whats going on over here?" Fuck. Kurt knew that voice too. It was his dad's.

"Burt! Calm down!" Kurt wasn't sure when his eyes drifted shut, but he couldn't see what was going on, all he heard was the voices of Burt, Sam, Joe, a co-worker who came over to help on every tuesday with restock, and- was that Finn?

"You're god damn fairy of a son here was faggin' up th-" Crack. Another fist was thrown, but this time it wasn't to him, and he was pretty sure that it wasn't Sam who was bellowing in pain.

"Don't you talk about _my son_ like that," Kurt could almost hear the blood veins he knew were visible on his fathers face in his voice.

"Burt! Burt! _Burt stop!_" All he heard was screaming, voices swirling in his head, and finally a thud. A loud thud. A thud that fell to the ground next to him. A thud that didn't even need a name, because Kurt just _knew_ who had fallen next to him. And that made his own heart plummet towards his stomach.

xxx

Kurt's finger played along the edge of Burt's hospital bed, with silent tears cascading their way down his face. His fore finger tapped gently against the hard plastic foot of the bed, and his middle finger stepped over was all his fault and he knew it. He had been the cause of this second heart attack, the heart attack that had pushed his father into a coma, a deeper sleep than the first one had. He knew Sam would be here, he had faith that Sam, battered and all, would come through for him and be there. Just like he always had, right? But it had been three weeks since the incident, three weeks since Sam and Kurt had even really talked, three weeks since he's had a tear-less nights rest, and exactly twenty one days since he heard his fathers voice. And one week later, it had been four weeks. Carol was beginning to get angry with Kurt and his refusal to set foot in that school, regardless of the fact Azimio and Karofsky were no longer in attendance. His defiance also frustrated Finn, Mercedes, and even Rachel, they all claimed amongst themselves and in hushed whispers that Kurt's attitude was making things more difficult. But what was it that he was making difficult? His fathers recovery? His friendships with them? His feelings about Sam? His feelings about what happened? He couldn't be blamed for his actions, he decided that much, because it wasn't fair that everything was a messy fast-paced blur to him and that he had no one to talk to about it.

He wanted to talk to Sam though, if anything, Sam and Kurt could figure this out together. They were best friends after all, regardless of the kiss right? And even if the kiss was taken into account, Kurt was ready to throw it away if it meant he could still be friends with Sam and just forget about it. But thats where Kurt's thoughts left him drawing circles, where _was_ Sam? Why hadn't he at least visited by now? Or had the decency to respond to Kurt's texts, long teary voicemails apologizing, anything? A frown tugged relentlessly at the corner of his lips and his eye brows sagged as his fingers continued drumming.

"Hummel," A voice that was so soft and gentle he didn't even recognize who's it was until he turned around.

"S-Santana?" His voice was groggy, but cracked in surprise.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," She said, and as he turned around to face her, he noticed her expression was remorseful and cautious.

"What? Why are you even here?" He demanded, folding his arms over his chest, "I politely asked everyone to no-and, why do you even _care_?"

Santana took a deep breath and swallowed her annoyance at Kurt's words, "Chill out, I'll only be here a minute," She held a finger up and pulled a small note that she had been holding in her bra out and extended it to Kurt, "Here."

"I don't feel comfortable touching that," He said, side-eyeing the note and her with a look of disgust."

That comment earned him a roll of her eyes, "Its from Sam."

That was all that needed to be said, and that note was all that needed to be read to confirm the fact that absolutely nothing good had come from that kiss.

xxx

_Beep _pause. _Beep _pause_. Beep _pause_. Beep _pause_. Beep _pause_. _That was the rhythmic, even sounds of Burt Hummel's heart monitor. As silly as it may seem, sometimes that sound was the only thing that lulled Kurt to sleep. Even now, a week after he had woken up, but not permitted out of the hospital, the sound was still comforting to Kurt. _Was_.

"You didn't need to protect me dad," He said softly one day to his father.

"The hell I did," Burt grunted and sat up straighter.

"No," He corrected, "you really didn't. You only got yourself into more of a mess."

"You're my _kid_, you definitely didn't look so independent back there," His father threw back at him, raising his eyebrow.

Kurt took a deep breath and closed his eyes, "I'm not a kid anymore."

"You're only sixteen," Burt interjected.

"Yeah and? I've done a lot of growing up since I was that boy you hand to hold hands with to preschool," Kurt snapped back.

"Don't be so defensive now," Burt didn't try to mask the annoyance, "why are you being like this?"

"Because!" Kurt jumped up from his place on the bed, "Its not fair! Its not fair that I almost lost you, because you didn't think I could handle myself!" He knew he what he was saying didn't make any sense, and he didn't know why he was picking a fight.

"I didn't think _anything_," _Beep beep. "_You're my god damn son! I heard you screaming from across the street, a sound that stills' in my ear to this day! I wasn't going to stand there and not do anything!" Pause.

"Was it worth it? Worrying all of us?" He needed to stop, but he couldn't. Why was he doing this? Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut? He knew he was angry at Sam, at the world, but not his Dad, so why was he taking it out on him? Why couldn't he control himself?

_Beep beep beep. _"Okay smartass, you have a son and you see how easy it would be for you!" _No_ pause. _Beep beep._

"Newsflash dad, I can't!"

When those words tumbled from Kurt's mouth the beeping grew louder and far more pronounced then it had been only moments ago. That one little sentence had caused their fight to escalate to even more extreme levels than before. The nurses light on Burt's bedside began omitting a red light and a similar light on top of his doorframe glowed simultaneously. Within an instant, Carol and Finn had coming rushing into the room in the midst of the two of them still exchanging nasty words and digs towards each other. Finn's muscular hands wrapped around Kurt's upper arm and dragged him into the hallway, out of the way of the incoming nurses.

"What the hell are you doing dude?" Finn demanded as Kurt swallowed and looked downcast at the floor, attempting to breathe evenly. When Finn didn't get an answer, he gave Kurt a little shove, "Come on! Answer me!"

Kurt's eyes snapped up and met Finn's in a piercing glare, "Don't touch me!"

"What the hell happened back there Kurt? What did you do to him?" Finn repeated, as his own voice rose, "I'll do whatever the hell I want!" Another shove.

"It's not your business!"

"He's my dad too!"

"_Step _dad Finn, _step_ dad."

"Well I'm acting more like his son then you are!"

Kurt froze as if a layer of hard ice had just been thrown at him his foul mood shattered at the truth behind Finn's words. "What? What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, a tremble slightly noticeable in his voice.

"I'm not going in there and starting shit to get him mad!" Finn clarified, but it didn't make Kurt feel any better and he figured it wasn't meant to.

"I didn't mean to! You don't even kno-" Kurt began to defend himself, with what little reasoning he had.

"You know what bro? Just...Just get out of here!" Time seemed to slow down when Finn's words registered in Kurt's ears. He looked around, the nurses were staring at the two of them, Carol was hovering nervously over a sedated-appearing Burt as well as his doctor and a few nurses, Joe and a few extra handy-mans were watching on too, a look of shock and disbelief in their eyes.

So, with one final look, that is exactly what Kurt Hummel did. He got out of there, as fast as his legs would carry him, and in whichever way his legs would carry him.

xxx

"Hey? Are you okay?" Two fingers gently prodded Kurt's shoulders and he opened his eyes.

"Hm what?" His eyes squinted and he surveyed his scenery.

If he hadn't remembered last nights events, he most certainly did now as he scanned the Westerville Bus Station. He had taken the Lima Bus all the two-hours away and landed himself in Westerville, where he had fallen asleep on the was no way he could go home, not for a while after what happened.

"Not really, but thats not exactly your concern," He said wincing internally at his own self.

"You got a name?" The girl asked, her green eyes staring up at him in curiosity, and smoldering him to the point where a sarcastic answer was just _not_ going to happen.

He cleared his throat, "Uh, Kurt. Kurt Hummel."

She smiled and extended a hand and after a moments hesitation he accepted it and allowed her to pull him into a standing position, "Well, congratulations Kurt Hummel, you just became a concern of Delilah Lutz."

xxx

**Well, there you have it! I understand it does jump a bit, but I wrote it that way for a reason. I hope you enjoyed it.~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Self fulfilling prophecy.**

_Self fulfilling prophecy._

By definition, a self fulfilling prophecy is: a prediction that directly or indirectly causes itself to become true, by the very terms of the prophecy itself, due to positive feedback between belief and behavior.

In simpler terms, a self fulfilling prophecy is a series of cause-and-effect events based on what you have been told, and what you believe. Example;

_Cause_: Every day a average-sized child is called fat.

_Effect_: The child starts to believe that, and out of grief (or the thought of 'Well if I already am _ it doesn't matter if I do _) the child starts to eat more, and eventually does fit societies terms of "fat".

If you are told something a certain number of times, you will begin to believe it. And your thoughts and actions from that point, will be based on what you believe. Its when something alters your self esteem level, messes with your confidence. Most of the time, it takes someone being told that specific thing multiple times in order for it to have a _real_ hard hitting effect, but for Kurt Hummel? It only took a few assumptions and one singular time. Because you see, the combination of the bullying, the attack, the note from Sam, the fight with his father, the stares from the onlookers, and the words "Well I'm acting more like his son than you are!" was all it took for Kurt stay away from not just his family, but his old life all together. Because those words had just started out as a metaphorical snowflake, but then over the course of just a few hours it started to build, and grow, and find its way rolling down a hill. A downward spiral, so to speak. And since he believed it, a downward spiral is exactly what he had become.

xx

**Five Years Later.**

'_Well I'm acting more like his son than you are!'_

'_More like his son than you are.'_

'_More like his son than you.'_

'_More like his son.'_

'_When you quit acting like a five year old who didn't get their way and start acting like my god damn son again, let me know!'_

'_You're only making this more difficult for everyone else, Kurt.'_

'_Kurt, I'm sorry, I just...that kiss was a mistake...I'm not gay.'_

'_What're you two fags doin'?'_

Delilah Lutz tended to be of the more physiological/astronomical side of life, believing in physiological facts she researched, what the orders of the stars meant, palm reading, all that jazz. For the most part, Kurt fared with her assumptions, they weren't crazy obsessions of hers, just things she looked up in her free time but when she told him that people who snore in their sleep don't have dreams, he didn't buy that bullshit. Always been told he was a light snorer himself, a fact confirmed by Delilah as well, his subconscious should not be playing dreams on his closed eyes. But they were, and when they first began, they were the worst. He would relive every detail, every mistake, every screw-up he made, but he'd relive it in his dreams to be ten times worse. And it haunted him, Finn taunted him, Sam laughed in his face with a look of disgust as he held his arm around Quinn, Burt just stared blankly, the one that was hardest to see was Santana and Brittany. Together. Happily. Kissing, hugging, holding hands down the street, without anyone having an issue with it. It felt like he was being punched in the gut, as he had been in the attack, but it hurt all that much more. All the while voices were echoing through his nightmares, saying the same things in every dream, and eventually as the years droned on his night mares slowly abated and when they did occur, they only echoed the haughty voices. And the previous night, was no exception.

"Kurt? Come on, its time to get up," A soft voice called from the kitchen, one Kurt easily pin-pointed as Delilah's.

He groaned and rolled over on his spot on the futon, mumbling something incoherent before exerting the energy into lifting himself up in a manner that resembled a push-up, "I'm up."

Delilah was standing in the kitchen, mixing something in a bowl that she cradled in her elbow, while humming an distant tune. Her black hair was pinned up, and although she had a smile on her face, her blue eyes looked a bit more blue and exhausted today, "Good Morning," She said, and then glanced at the clock with a laugh, "at 2:30 in the afternoon."

"'Morning 'Lilah," He said, "What are you doing?"

"Well I'm cooking, I thought that much has been made obvious at this point," She said teasingly.

He rolled his eyes, "For me? You shouldn't have."

"I'm making your favorite, so unless you don't want your pancakes, I'd hush up," Without her even turning around, he knew she had a look of mock-exasperation on her face.

He took a seat in small kitchen table closest to the stove, pulling out the chair to face her, "Strawberry pancakes?" His eyes light up when she nodded, "Is it my birthday or are you just in an exceptional mood today?"

"I'm working a double shift tonight at The Palm," The italian restaurant that was down town from her parents summer home in LA, in which they had been residing in for the past two and a half years, she said.

"But didn't you just end your shift at Monsoon?" A popular cafe also not too far from where they lived, he asked.

"Yeah," Delilah sighed and poured the batter onto the pan, "Those damn stubborn student loans are refusing to pay themselves."

Kurt rolled his eyes once more, "But why? I can actually fend for myself. And do I need to count off _how_ many times your parents have offered to pay it off for you? Honestly, you have too much pride." He added with a frown.

"Thats not exactly what Rory told me," She shot him a look from the corner of her eye and Kurt gulped, Rory was his boss and he knew exactly what she was talking about, "He called me at work, and told me you almost _passed out_ last night, and told me to make sure you actually, oh I don't know, ate _something_?"

"I wasn't hungry," Kurt just shrugged and fixed his gaze to the floor, even though the truth was he had only woken up a half an hour before his shift started and had no time to eat.

Delilah sighed, flipping the pancake over, "You know Monsoon's isn't exactly _hiring_ but I could get you a job there...one with reasonable hours, that won't exhaust you to the point where you pass out on that dammed futon for god knows how long."

"Those circles under your eyes and that lovely double shift you just informed me of tells me that your job isn't any less exhausting then mine," Kurt replied without a moments hesitation, picking up one of the many magazines that were strewn across the table.

Delilah let out another sigh, but didn't say a word and the two of them fell into an awkward silence, the only sound to be heard was that of the bubbling pancake and the pages of a magazine turning. "What do you want to drink?" She asked, evidently uncomfortable with the quiet.

"Nothing," He responded nonchalantly, flipping another page, which causing Delilah to grab a Fiji water from the fridge and put it in front of him, "Actually, water sounds fantastic."

She let out a little laugh, and handed him his plate before pulling out a chair across from him, "You're too nice to me." He pointed out before giving her a small smile.

"I'm just worried about you Kurt," She folded her hands and stared at him thoughtfully.

"Why?" He asked, cutting his pancake in a dainty like manner.

"I..." She didn't know where to start, "I hate you're doing this to yourself."

He didn't look up, "You didn't have a problem with it before."

"Your job? I always have." She reminded him.

"Whats wrong with it?" He knew damn well what was wrong with it.

"I feel like you're selling yourself. Its not fair, you never once talked to me about it in the five years I've known you, but I know you have dreams. And I know this is-"

He cut her off, "Dreams require freedom, and freedom requires money."

"And my parents could help you, Kurt. They're dying to actually," Delilah stated, begging Kurt with her eyes to just look her way.

"They've always been dying to help me, and its not fair to them that I just _mooch_ off of them," Kurt put his knife down, and looked up at her with an irritated look, and then glanced at the clock.

"Its three o'clock, you need to get going," He said.

Silently she got up, slipped into the bathroom and changed into her uniform for The Palm, grabbed her coat and had one foot through the door before she turned around and said, "Y'know, between the two of us, I'd say _you_ were the one with a pride issue."

xx

"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" A blonde haired man cat-called to Delilah as she made her way behind the bar counter, which had only ten minutes ago opened after her second shift began.

"Its nice to see you too Jeff," She smiled and adjusted her apron.

"You're a bar-tender now?" He asked, incredulous.

"I learned how to mix a few drinks back in college, and this was the only way I could work a double shift," She rested her hand in her elbow which she perched against the counter. "Wheres Nick?"

Jeff let out a laugh and looked around, "He's probably still trying to drag our other friend out of the house. Won over a pretty big firm today, and he still won't come out to live a little."

"And what was his name again? Mark?" She asked.

"Blaine," He corrected with a small smile, "Can't blame him though, he caught his boyfriend with another man earlier this week...well month actually but he acts like it only happened a day ago."

"Just because I don't have a rebound within twenty four hours like you doesn't mean I'm any less well off than you," A black haired man rounded the corner and took a seat on the stool next to Jeff, while Nick sat on Jeff's other side.

"I've been telling him a little visit to the strip club will remove that pole up his ass," Nick said to Delilah, pointing a thumb in Blaine's direction, "Anyway, how are you on this fine, fine, day Dee? I'm not used to seeing you working the bar."

Blaine opened his mouth to interject but was cut off by Jeff, "Normally its that old guy who's always giving us the shit eye. I don't think he's fond of us."

"Rumor has it Nick got a little too drunk on one of your infamous Friday night escapades, and took his soda hose and sprayed Sprite down his shirt," Delilah accused with a smirk, causing Blaine to laugh.

"Why haven't I heard this story before guys?" Blaine turned around in his seat, looking at Nick and Jeff, both a very bright red color in their cheeks.

"Uhm, well," Nick scratched the back of his neck, not meeting anyones gaze, "I left him a tip if that counts."

Suddenly a very angry Kurt Hummel bursted in through the doors of The Palm, and he scanned through the tables and mixture of waiters and waitresses, looking for the only one of them who appeared to have a death wish, _Delilah_. He pursed his lips as he found her talking to three guys behind a bar, and tried to grab her attention without causing a scene. Finally she met his eyes and he walked over to the side of the bar.

"Will you three excuse me for a minute?" She asked politely, eyeing Kurt from the side of her eye. She walked over to him and stepped out of the bar, "Whats wrong?"

"Would you be so kind to tell me _why_ I just got a call from Rory, telling me to take the day off?" He demanded, placing a hand to his hips.

Delilah looked just as surprised as him, and asked, "Wait what? Kurt, I didn't tell him anything, other than I'd make sure you ate something before you left."

"Well if it wasn't you, than who was it?" He began to tap his foot.

"Look, does it even matter? You've been working hard and a day off isn't going to kill you." She relented, giving up on even trying to deny it.

"_Now_ what am I supposed to do?" He sighed angrily.

"You can stay here, happy hour starts soon," She said with a smile.

He looked over at the boys she'd been talking to earlier, "As charming as your friends seem..."

"The one on the end is gay."

"Black hair?"

"Mhm."

"One night couldn't hurt..."

"Absolutely right, come on," She said, pulling him over to where they sat.

"Did you bring us another drinking buddy?" Nick asked, perking up from his spot in the corner.

"Four is a true party!" Jeff said in agreement.

"This is my room mate, Kurt," She said gesturing to him, before looking at Blaine who hadn't said anything, but looked a little shocked.

"I'm Nick!" Nick shouted, as Jeff echoed his self-introduction.

Blaine shot him an easy smile and said, "And that leaves me to be Blaine," and he gestured to the stool next to him, silently offering Kurt a seat.

"I'm Kurt, its a pleasure to meet you all," He said before taking the seat.

And a pleasure it was.

xx

So that was it, a bit late, but here all the same.

And as someone brought to my attention earlier, the title of this story "Burning Up" is a reference to the glee cover that Jesse never got to perform in the Madonna episode.

I hope you enjoyed~


	3. Chapter 3

**For a more emotional experience, feel free to watch this:**

**http:/www.youtube.com/watch?v=xv0voan_2tg&feature=BFa&list=FL1z-zDUDc71W2YBhH4dyzkw&lf=mh_lolz**** (I did not create nor do not take credit for this)**

**Klaine time my friends, Klaine time.**

xx

**I feel you forget me.**

_**8pm.**_

"Are you two ever going to order? I've got other customers you know," Delilah placed a hand on her hip and a playful smile on her face.

"Are you insisting we _drink_?" Jeff accused with an expression of mock shock.

"I think she is!" Nick chimed in, with a faked gasp as he held his hands in front of his face in a rather feminine way.

Kurt rolled his eyes as he mumbled under his breath, "And _they're_ the straight ones?" not anticipating his wit to reach the ears of anyone.

However, Blaine was not 'anyone' and he let out a laugh, the first time he had laughed in a long time and he felt _that _feeling coursing through his stomach. That feeling you get when you laugh after a while of not doing so, like your body had once forgotten how good it felt to laugh, and now had the pleasure of being reminded. "You should have seen them when they were going through their very own 'Desperate Housewives' phase."

Kurt scoffed, despite a coy smile of his own showing itself, "Not even _I _watch that."

"Rather be watching America's Next Top Model, or another run-way show of your choosing?" Blaine joked.

_Well I used to kind of hope my designs would be _running_ those shows by now_ Kurt winced internally but instead joked along, "Can you blame me? They're _addicting._"

"Oh I know exactly how you feel," Blaine winked at him.

It had been a while since anyone had said that to Kurt.

_**9:45 pm.**_

"So, tell me about yourself," Kurt challenged, taking a sip from his Cosmo.

"What about myself?" Blaine took a swig of his beer, raising his eyebrow in question.

Kurt shrugged, "Anything." "Job, family, pet...?" He ventured, unable to prevent his voice from flickering on the word _family_.

"Why are you so curious?" He didn't sound harsh, he was just curious himself of as to why he seemed so interesting to the man who hadn't breathed a word about himself the entire night.

"Because you seem like the kind of guy who would manage to kill a cactus," Kurt offered with a mischievous look in his eye.

"Oh how you doubt me..." Blaine shook his head, "one time, I had a pet cat thatI had decided was a girl. And so, I named her _Deborah _and we hit it off, mainly because we had a system; she would eat my mother's nasty tuna that she insisted on making," He wrinkled his nose at the memory, "and I would let her sleep on my bed. But, one day when my cousins came to visit , who were only four, they chased Deborah around and dressed her up in these little outfits," he shook his head, "And then for unknown reasons she jumped out of the window..."

"Second story?" Kurt gasped.

"Second story." Blaine paused for a minute and then continued on, "The veterinarian clarified that Deborah was, despite contrary belief, a boy..."

_**10:15 pm.**_

Half an hour later Kurt was clutching his sides, from laughing so hard laughing so hard. He hadn't found anything quite as funny as Blaine's childhood in a long _long_ time. It lifted his heart a little, slowly rising it from his stomach where he thought it had been permanently lodged. Delilah was busier now, running back and forth between taking orders and mixing drinks from people seated at the bar, and from helping sat orders from guests seated in tables and booths. Nick and Jeff had gotten off of their stools and began mingling with girls on the other side of the bar, though occasionally at different intervals they would glance at Delilah. To Kurt it seemed as it always had, that he was in his own little bubble but this time he wasn't alone. Blaine was in his little bubble too, and he couldn't bring himself to be happy about it. All this was, was Blaine telling him stories, dropping flirty remarks every now and again, and Kurt laughing. He tried to keep all questions on Blaine, getting him too indulged in alcohol to notice. In that moment, his vision became clearer, he noted the smile on Blaine's face, goofy and matching his own he was sure, the look of tire and stress on Delilah's although she smiled a bit at the interaction between Blaine and himself, and Jeff and Nick's goofing around. He also felt his stomach feel lighter and lighter, with each word he spoke and each breath of laugher he took, and thats when he decided that this...this happiness he was feeling was just the alcohol. _There was no way it could be more._

_**11 pm. **_

"_Bro_, you are _so _tanked!" A loud, giggly Jeff declared, pounding the palm of his hand against Nick's back as they drunkenly returned to their original seats.

"I'm not even," Nick laughed and then leaned closer to Jeff, whispering in his ear, "I haven't had alcohol since I was seven."

""He's a denial drunk," Kurt said, looking over Nick, feeling rather tipsy himself.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Jeff asked as he held two fingers in front of Nick's face.

"Two. See?" Nick stated proudly, puffing out his chest a little.

"Now how many?" Jeff asked again, but this time he held his hand downwards so his two fingers formed an upside down 'V'.

"Two!" Another cheery response came from Nick.

"Wrong!" Jeff bursted out in laughter while Delilah side-eyed him, "I'm hold them _down._"

"I'm such a doof!" Nick said, face-palming his face with no, not his hand, but the top of his beer.

"A cute one at that," A blonde girl walked by, and placed her hand on his shoulder while speaking, and then walked off, leaving Nick to follow her.

"He's like a puppy!" Jeff watched in pure amazement.

"And Kurt is like a cat!" Blaine exclaimed giddily.

At this point, Delilah nearly dropped the soda-hose as she filled out an order of just Sprite while agreeing, "So true."

"Wha's tha s'pposed to mean?" Kurt grumbled, pouting a bit.

"No no I mean it nicely! Your like, the good cat, the king of cats! And Jesse is like the evil lord of cats!" Blaine said, hastily trying to correct himself, "You're Mufasa and he's Scar!"

"Jesse?" Kurt frowned.

"He's my ex! He was sleeping with Ed," Delilah assumed he was making another reference to the Lion King, as in the hyena as she eavesdropped, "and I caught him, I caught him, I _caught him_ earlier today!"

"Month," Jeff corrected.

"Yeah, yeah, its only a day in cat time, right Kurt?" Blaine turned more to Kurt, his eyes begging for him to agree.

"At least it wasn't Nala!" Kurt exclaimed before stating bluntly, "I think you're more of a puppy, Blaine."

"Yeah right, so in dog years, Scar just cheated on me!" Blaine frowned.

"It's more like seven months ago he did," Delilah sighed.

"But the need to punch him in the face is a burning as ever! Kurr' why didn't you come to roar at them and get them away? Mufasa would be disappointed!" Blaine complained, contradicting himself.

"How am I ever going to get all of you home," Delilah sighed.

_**2 am. **_

"You know this really shouldn't be my responsibility," She huffed as she helped walk Jeff to the waiting taxi, "I'm just the waitress and occasional bar-tender, not your babysitter."

"But a beautiful one at that!" Jeff said affectionately, throwing his arm around her.

"Alright lover boy," She pushed him into the taxi and buckling him in, "speaking of whom, where'd Nick go?" Her eyes scanned the outside surroundings of _The Palm_.

"He went home with blondie!" Jeff said, not bothering to keep the jealousy over the fact his friend was getting laid when he wasn't.

"And Blaine?" She asked.

"Right here!" Kurt had Blaine hooked onto him, much like Jeff had just been to Delilah., and plopping him next to Jeff.

Delilah held her hand on the door of the yellow cab ready to close it, "Goodnight guys,"

"Night Dee!" Jeff smiled.

"G'night Timon!" Another Lion King pun, which apparently seemed like reality to Blaine.

Kurt laughed, "Goodnight Pumbaa!"

Delilah shut the door and waved them off, "Now lets get _you_ home." and linked arms with Kurt.

xx

Burt Hummel didn't cry much, most people considered him too manly to do such a thing. But whenever he passed through the basement, which he tried to make a habit of not doing, or pulled out his wallet to see a picture of his son smiling back at him, he couldn't help but feel his eyes sting. And on the occasion where he'd see any picture of his son, he would stare at it for a bit, _yes _even the one in his wallet that he had seen a thousand times, and just wonder. The blue eyes staring straight back at him, and the smile that had been plastered onto Kurt's face three seconds before the camera went off, made him wonder if Kurt would have smiled differently had he known that _when_ he was smiling he wasn't just looking into a camera lens, no, he would be looking at the future Burt. He, in that picture, would be the closest thing Burt had of him come five years.

Sometimes, he would even visit Elizabeth's grave and ask her "Where is our son? Please Liz...you gotta to help me."

But Burt didn't have the slightest clue were his son was, he didn't five years ago, and he still didn't now. But that didn't mean he didn't try, because he did every day. He filed continuous police reports, but what good did that do him? He tried, Carole tried after just 24 hours of not hearing from him, Finn did, Rachel's fathers did, but the minute the words _'Sexual Orientation: Homosexual.' _on some information cards met an officers eyes or the words '_Isn't that the gay kid?'_ met their ears, the case was dropped almost faster than a hot pan.

Finn took it hardly for a while, but began to push the events out of his mind, including the event where he first ever met Kurt. He was a mess until he left for college, and Burt figured the change of scenery gave Finn a change of mind. But that didn't stop him from noticing the large hole in the wall next to Kurt's door, or Finn's swollen fist when Finn came back to visit from college for Christmas. Mercedes and Rachel were much the same, Rachel crying hysterically, one day during graduation practice, when Kurt's name had been called to receive his robes. The rest of New Directions, Sam included, also shed a few tears during graduation, when a slide show had been made of all of the graduating seniors and towards the end of the slide show their had been a few slides of the people who _would_ have graduated with them, but didn't because of some unfortunate event- whether it be a car accident, a suicide, or a run away...

Carole knew no words of hers could provide comfort on certain days, all she could do was hold him and feel remorseful herself. The only thing that could comfort her husband was his son, the one thing she couldn't give. The guys down at his shop knew, and they offered support by trying to get Burt to eat healthy in a way much similar to Kurt's.

"Gotta keep that heart of yours in good shape when ya see your boy again," Bob, another worker, and Joe had said to him one day before handing him a bottled water and some Cheerios.

No matter what anyone did, or how much time passed, Burt Hummel was still as miserable as the day he came home from the hospital, after much worrying of why Kurt never showed up there either, and found his own home Kurt-less. Today wasn't an exception, as he was going through boxes in the attic and found a box with the word _Stuff_ scribbled on it in sharpie. He inwardly laughed at himself, and how when he organized these boxes to move them from the basement years ago he was too bothered to write what _stuff_ was in there. But curiosity got the best of him as he set the box down and knelt on the floor next to it, cutting through the tape and opening the flaps. His eyes were greeted with outdated newspaper, and he reached into the box and grabbed a rather small lump of what appeared to be just a rolled up ball of newspaper. He was tempted to throw it back in the box and not wonder why he had just thrown crumpled up newspapers into a box, but his common sense got a hold of him and told him that the box he just lifted was far too heavy to just be holding newspapers. He unraveled it slowly and revealed a porcelain teacup that had '_Kurt' _written on it in calligraphy on the side.

Suddenly, the memories came back to him, like floodgates had opened. He recalled the lazy Sunday afternoons, playing tea-party with Kurt, his boy, not even caring how _gay_ it made the both of them look. Suddenly, he just wished he had enjoyed it more. Suddenly, the cup slipped out of his grasp and his hands went to cradle his head as he bent over in pain, agony. And suddenly, he couldn't stop himself from wondering where Kurt was. If he was alive. Who he was with. If he had found love. Where he worked. Everything.

xx

"He's at work," Delilah reported the next day at 6pm as she wiped down the booth of a table where Jeff and Blaine were sitting after Blaine asked, a slight frown tugging at her features.

"Does he work at a bar too?" Blaine asked, disappointment evident in voice.

"Mhm," she nodded, because it technically wasn't a lie, and then looked back at him, smiling, "Smitten for Mufasa are you?

Blaine suddenly paled, "What?"

"You're a pretty interesting drunk, you know that?" She said.

"I guess it was a long shot for me to hope that was just a dream..." Blaine mumbled, staring down at his feet.

"He just wants his number," Jeff said, elbowing Blaine good-heartedly, "like a lovesick _puppy_."

"That could be arranged," Delilah said with a smile, "it depends on how well you tip me." Blaine smiled up at her, "And where is Nick today? Too hungover?"

"He never responded to our text asking him to meet us here," Blaine said, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Or calls." Jeff added.

"Or voicemails," Blaine concluded.

"Well that girl he went home with looked a bit shady," Jeff commented.

Blaine scoffed, "She looked like a prostitute."

"I actually think she looked more like a _stripper_," Jeff said sarcastically.

Delilah winced and thought of Kurt.

xx

**Chapter Three.~**

**Thank you all who have been reviewing/subscribing/favouriting/reading, it does go a long way.**

**And to muse19, no I haven't so if you're interested or know anyone who is, feel free to PM me? :D**


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